


Call Me

by Love2Slash



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Prostitution, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love2Slash/pseuds/Love2Slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long before Mike was taken on as an associate at Pearson Hardman, he occasionally worked as a male escort to earn extra cash to help pay his Grammy's medical bills.  His friend Jimmy, who still runs the escort agency, begs him to take on just one last client.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me

Considering his remarkable memory, Mike has absolutely no need to keep checking and re-checking the details on the card in his hand, but as he makes his way along the thickly carpeted hallway, he does so anyway. Eventually, he reaches the correct room, and although he doesn't feel exactly nervous as such, there's still a feeling of apprehension in the pit of his stomach, mixed with the buzz of excitement.

He hopes the guy is going to be good-looking – well, at least not too old or ugly anyway, and definitely not fat. Not that there'll be anything he'll be able to do about it once the door swings open and he steps inside, of course. After all, a deal is a deal, and he'll have to go through with it, whatever the guy looks like, so having checked his shoes are still clean and shiny and that his tie is neat and straight, he takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

Once upon a time – well, just after he'd been hired as an entry level associate at Pearson Hardman, six months ago to be exact – he'd genuinely believed he'd never be doing anything like this again. Tonight is definitely just a one-off though, he reminds himself, a favor to a friend. Not that he's doing this favor pro bono, mind you. Oh no, this little gig comes with a hefty list of billables that even Louis Litt would be proud of, plus he's already received a two thousand dollar fee up front from Jimmy, with any added bonuses or tips the client cares to offer in cash payments still to come. It's almost ten times the amount he'd averaged per client when he'd been on Jimmy's books in the past, but his friend has made it very clear to Mike that this guy is willing to pay through the nose for the right man, and he himself, apparently, is exactly what the client is looking for.

"Aw, come on, Mikey," Jimmy had wheedled on the phone after the third time Mike had refused the gig by text. "This job is made for you and I haven't got anyone else on my books who remotely fits the bill. Look, I've got this rich client, and listen to what he wants, okay? Mikey, just listen! He's looking for a young skinny guy, about your height with blue eyes, dark blond to light brown hair and something that he calls 'soft features'. I mean, come on, man, even you've got to admit it sounds exactly like he's describing you and your sweet little blue-eyed baby face!"

"Aw, Jimmy, I don't know," Mike had replied in hushed tones, conscious of the other associates around him. "I'm well out of all that stuff now, and besides, I've got a respectable job these days. What if somebody I work with finds out about it, or even that I used to do it before? It could be real bad for my career or worse. I could get fired."

"Aw, but nobody's gonna find out," Jimmy had assured him. "You know how our clients value their privacy, and discretion is my middle name! And besides, it's just gonna be for one night! Come on, Mikey boy, you know wanna do this. It's two thousand dollars for you, man, and that's just basic. Who knows how much extra this guy'll pay you at the end of the night, especially if you treat him right!"

"Look, I'm not saying it's not tempting," Mike had whispered into his phone. It hadn't just been the thought of the money that was tempting him either. It'd been months since he'd gotten laid, and the thought of some guy, some rich and hopefully attractive stranger, throwing him down onto a bed and fucking him until he screamed, had him all hot under the collar. Furthermore, from where he'd been sitting in his cubicle, he'd been able to see Harvey talking to Jessica at the end of the hallway, Harvey standing there straight and tall, with the beautifully cut lines of his expensive suit accentuating the curves of his fine chest and ass, and he'd licked his lips, the sight making his groin ache with desire. 

It had been almost too much to take. 

"It's just this one time," he'd heard Jimmy's voice crooning in his ear, "and I'll never ask you again, I swear. C'mon, Mikey, we're talking one night, two weeks on Saturday, and all you gotta do is go take the usual tests, then spend a few hours entertaining this guy in a fancy penthouse suite at the Four Seasons. The Four Seasons, man! Whaddya say?" 

And so in the end Mike had agreed, and now here he was, actually knocking on the door to the room. The guy had wanted him to turn up wearing a business suit, preferably with a narrow tie, and well, he'd certainly had plenty of those to choose from, so it wasn't as if he'd had to put himself out particularly, just get showered and dressed as if going to work, which he would be doing, essentially, albeit in a different capacity than he'd been used to since he'd been hired by Harvey Specter.

He knows that the client has already been emailed his price list of all the extras that he, as the escort, will be willing to agree to, and Mike's is a pretty extensive list, to be fair. Both the giving and receiving of oral and anal sex are included in the standard fee, but then there's a list of increasingly expensive optional extras which the client can pay for if he so wishes, including a number of fantasy role play scenarios and various other kinks and fetishes. Although Mike isn't particularly keen on nipple clamps, golden showers, spanking and the like, he still includes them in his list, but then he also includes kissing, which he knows is often viewed as a more desirable extra by clients, because a lot of the other escorts prefer not to offer kissing on the mouth as a service, but Mike thinks that's pretty weird. He thinks that if he's prepared to suck a guy's cock or let him piss on him even, why wouldn't he let him kiss him? Besides, Mike very much enjoys kissing, even with strangers and especially with tongues, and so to him sex without it would just seem weird, or perhaps not even worth the bother.

He wonders what this guy will be like, if he'll show him a good time or not, and whether he's going to be walking with a limp when he leaves here either later on tonight or tomorrow, like … well, like this one guy Jimmy had paired him with once. It seems to be taking forever before the door opens, but when it eventually does, Mike's eyes are still trained on the floor as he grins at the memory of this previous encounter, and when he hears his new client actually begin to speak, the man's voice is not only shocked and incredulous, but also somehow devastatingly familiar.

"Mike? What the fuck?" 

And then Mike's eyes are widening in shock and his mouth gapes, for the man who has opened the door to him isn't some mystery client at all, old, fat or otherwise. Instead, the man standing before him is none other than his handsome boss at Pearson Hardman, Harvey Specter. 

"H - Harvey?" he chokes out. "What the hell?"

It actually takes less than two seconds for Harvey to recover his composure, but even so, Mike, who has become much more adept at reading Harvey's generally inscrutable countenance over the last few months, can see that he's rattled. His boss takes a quick glance both ways along the deserted hallway, and then he grabs hold of Mike's wrist and yanks him swiftly inside.

"Ow, fuck!" Mike says, yelping in pain. "Harvey, what – "

"What the hell do you think you're doing, coming here?" Harvey hisses in his face, cutting him off as soon as he's closed the door behind them. "Have you been following me? What gives you the right to just turn up here like this, huh? Did somebody send you? Was it Louis? Jessica? Tell me!"

Mike shakes his head. "It's nothing remotely like that," he protests weakly. " I – I have an appointment here, in this room. I had no idea you were even at this hotel, I – " 

"What?" Harvey growls at him. "What do you mean, you have an appointment? What kind of appointment?"

"I – just an appointment," Mike stammers, rubbing his wrist where Harvey had brutally grabbed him. He was sure there'd be a bruise there tomorrow. "I'm supposed to meet this – this guy, and – "

And then his mouth dries up as Harvey stares at him, as suddenly, horrifically, everything clicks into place.

"Oh, God," he gasps, his eyes wide again as his mouth once again falls open.

The older, rich guy Jimmy had told him about? The guy who had so very specifically requested someone who looked and dressed just like him?

Fuck, it was _Harvey._

" _Y - you're_ my eight o'clock?" Mike questions, although his voice trails off weakly.

"Jesus Christ," Harvey says disgustedly, although Mike's not sure if it's him the older man is disgusted with, himself, or the situation. Whichever it is, he suddenly looks decidedly crushed, and he shakes his head as he turns his back on Mike before stalking over to the suite's huge windows, which so prettily display the glittering city below. Not knowing how to react, Mike can do nothing at first but stand there and stare at Harvey's stiff back, although a few seconds later, a brief sweep of the room tells him a lot about what he wants to know. There's a table set for two with a single red rose as decoration, and a sexy understated jazz plays softly over the sound system. A sumptuous king-sized bed dominates the room, and there's a wicker basket filled with goodies on the nightstand: fruit, water, chocolates and as far as Mike can guess from the scene Harvey has created, it more than likely contains lube and flavoured condoms as well.

Harvey's set everything up, for him, for them both in fact, for a wonderful, romantic, sexy evening. Well, not for _him_ exactly, but for someone who looks and dresses _exactly_ like him.

What Mike doesn't understand is _why?_

"Harvey – " he starts to say, taking a few steps further into the room.

"I think it would be best if you left," Harvey tersely interrupts him, his back still turned. His hands are shoved deep in his pants pockets and his suit jacket is taut across his back.

Mike shifts his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other as he tries to think of something remotely useful to say, but in the end all he can come up with is, "Shit, Harvey, I didn't know it was gonna be you."

"Look, just go, will you?" Harvey snaps brusquely over his shoulder.

Mike hesitates. "What shall I do about … the - the money you've already paid me?" he asks quietly. "I – I don't want it."

Harvey whirls on him then. "No, keep it," he snarls. "We'll just call it hush money now, shall we? Although to be fair, I can't see you wanting to tell people what _you_ were about to do tonight either, can you?"

"Harvey, I'm not gonna tell anyone," Mike says, shaking his head in disbelief. "Of course, I won't. We both have a lot to lose if anyone finds out, but I wouldn't tell anyone anyway. Really, I wouldn't."

Harvey acknowledges his words with a curt nod in his direction.

"And … and I really don't want your money," Mike adds. "I'll have Jimmy transfer it back into your account as soon as I can, okay?"

"You were happy enough to take it when you thought it was some _stranger's_ money you were getting," Harvey accuses bitterly. "Just exactly how _does_ it feel to be selling your body for sex, Mike?"

"Well, just about the same as it feels to be buying it, I guess," Mike shoots back, clearly affronted by the irony of his boss's words.

Harvey seems to recognise it's a fair point, and so for once there's no immediate hard-ass, cocky comeback. Instead he falls silent, although as he stands there with his feet wide-spaced and his back ramrod straight, Mike still can’t help thinking how very handsome his boss is, despite the sulky frown he's now wearing. 

"I think you should leave now," Harvey says. "Go on, leave. Get out."

But Mike shakes his head and boldly stands his ground. "Harvey," he says in an even a tone as he can manage, "don't you think we need to talk about this?"

"I've nothing more to say."

"Well, I have, and I'm thinking maybe we should start by explaining how we each ended up in this situation together here tonight."

Harvey considers this then shrugs. He guesses Mike's right, because it's not something that's going to just go away when they both get to the office on Monday morning. "So what's your excuse?" he asks eventually. "I take it you don't do this sort of thing all the time?"

"No, I don't," Mike says. "I was actually doing a favor for a friend." 

"Yeah?" Harvey's voice is scathing. "Who's that then? Must be a pretty good friend." 

"Yeah, he is," Mike replies. "His name's Jimmy. He's the guy who runs the agency. So then ... what about you?" He then waits expectantly. 

Harvey, however, remains tight-lipped. 

"Well, surely your excuse has got to be a little bit more complicated than mine?" Mike presses.

"What do you mean?" Harvey snaps.

"You know exactly what I mean," Mike says bravely. "How come you asked the escort agency to set you up with someone who looked a lot like me?"

"Who says I did?" 

"Look, deny it if you like," Mike says, "but I know exactly what you asked for. It's the reason why Jimmy asked me to come back, and –"

"Oh, so now you're saying you _have_ done this before?" Harvey interrupts accusingly. 

Mike swallows hard. "What?" he says, blinking.

"You're saying you've worked as a prostitute for this agency before? How many times, Mike?"

"As an _escort,_ I've worked for this agency before," Mike corrects him, "and I just did it a few times when I was out of work last year and needed money for Gram's medical bills. I wasn't proud of doing it but it was a good way to get the money I needed fast."

"Jesus," Harvey says. "And I thought the drug-dealing was bad enough."

"Says the guy who actually hired me," Mike reminds him. "And I'm not talking about hiring me for my job at Pearson Hardman here, Harvey. I'm talking about _this_ job, as in _you_ hiring _me_ to do any number of things with you here tonight, so I don't see how you can start taking the moral high ground now. I mean what were you planning to do with this guy you were buying, huh? Tie him up? Make him wear a diaper or a collar and sit at your feet? What?"

Yet again, Harvey seems at a loss for words as he stands there, clenching and unclenching his jaw. _Make love to him and pretend it was you,_ is what he wants to say. Instead, he eyes the cut of Mike's suit, his shirt, his tie. Sure, they're nowhere near up to his own standards, but they're a still a long way from the cheap polyester ensemble Mike had been wearing when Harvey had first met him. 

"You're not desperate for money now though, are you?" he asks eventually, and, if he's honest, somewhat worriedly. Of course he already knows he pays Mike more in a month than the kid had ever previously seen in a year, and that's excluding expenses and bonuses, but somehow, and because Mike always continues to surprise him in so many ways, he feels the need to ask the question anyway. After all, he's no real idea what debts someone with Mike's background might have.

"No," Mike admits truthfully, to Harvey's relief. "No, I'm not. I literally just – "

Suddenly, they both start as a loud knock at the door interrupts them. 

"Oh man, don't tell me there are more of us?" Mike asks, unable to keep the natural mischief out of his voice. 

"Don't be so ridiculous," Harvey says crossly, glancing at his watch. "It's room service. I ordered us some food. Wait here, I'll send them away."

"Um, Harvey?"

Harvey turns and eyes Mike suspiciously, obviously expecting another sarcastic quip, but Mike just smiles at him winningly.

"What?" he asks impatiently.

"Can we just let them in with the food anyway?" he begs. "Please? You see, I was expecting this rich older guy to buy me dinner tonight and so I've hardly eaten all day, and, well, strictly speaking, I _am_ your guest, and – "

Huffing under his breath as he turns from him, Harvey opens the door and steps back as a pair of waiters in cream jackets wheel in two carts packed with silver dishes and several bottles of champagne, as well as a whole host of other snacks and beverages.

"We've managed to fulfil all of your requests, sir," one of the waiter says politely. "Just let reception know when you've finished and someone will be right here to clear everything away."

"Thanks," Harvey says, slipping a roll of cash from his pocket into the man's expectant palm, although it seems to Mike that he can't wait to slam and lock the door behind them as they leave.

"Uh, Harvey?" Mike says, as he takes a few tentative steps while looking longingly over at the covered dishes the waiters have transferred to the table.

"Mike, I get it," Harvey snaps, and he shakes his head before waving his hand in resignation. "Just go ahead, kid, knock yourself out."

Eagerly starting forward now that permission has been granted, Mike drags a chair up to the table. 

"Oh, my God, Harvey!" he exclaims, as he lifts the lid on the first dish with a flourish and reveals a neat pile of cheeseburgers nestling on a bed of glistening fries. Okay, so admittedly the burger buns are actually made from some kind of fancy Italian bread that Mike doesn't know the name of, and they're garnished with an array of brightly coloured salad vegetables all carved into the shapes of beautiful stars or flowers, but nevertheless they are what they are: a tempting pile of big thick juicy cheeseburgers.

"Oh man, you were gonna sit here and eat _my_ favourite food with this guy you were hiring?" he asks, as he scoops one of the burger buns into his hand and prepares to bite in before cramming as much of the juicy treat into his mouth as he can manage in one go. "Mmm, Harvey, come eat," he says, his words all sloppy around his food. "This stuff is just amazing."

Despite himself, Harvey approaches the table and carefully sits down opposite Mike. Although his face doesn't show it, as always he's amused by the enthusiastic way the kid eats: it's always the same - as if he's ravenous and has absolutely no idea where his next meal might be coming from. 

"Slow down, you'll choke yourself," he advises, unaware of the indulgent smile that's now gently tugging at the corners of his mouth.

But Mike is already one foot in burger heaven, the bun gripped expertly between both hands, elbows on the table, his eyes half closed and a look of pure ecstasy etched on his face as the tender meat melts in his mouth. Harvey's tries to remember a time when he might have displayed such youthful exuberance over such a simple pleasure, but isn't really surprised when he can't. Nevertheless, the smell of the food and Mike's enthusiastic moans have him leaning forward to pick up a cheeseburger himself, and as he does so, he lifts the lid on another one of the dishes. 

"No way!" Mike shrieks as soon as he sees what appears to be a huge four cheese pizza. "Does it have the cheese inside the crust as well?" he asks, his eyes shining happily.

"Absolutely," Harvey says, unable to stop himself from grinning as Mike whoops with delight. He releases the cork from the first bottle of champagne and pours out half a frothy glass before pushing it towards Mike.

"Champagne?" he offers, and still chomping, Mike nods as Harvey obligingly tops up his glass.

"Cheeseburgers, pizza and _champagne?_ " he asks curiously.

Harvey shrugs. "You like cheeseburgers and I like champagne," he says, by way of explanation. 

"Except it wasn't actually going to be me," Mike reminds him, chugging down his champagne as if it's lemonade. "It was going to be some other guy. My lookalike."

"Yeah," Harvey concedes. He sips from his own glass, but Mike can clearly see that his last comment has affected Harvey quite badly. His face has fallen and he watches as Harvey tosses his half eaten burger back onto the plate. Mike continues to study him as he finishes his own mouthful, and then he picks up a napkin and wipes his mouth and hands. 

_Press until it hurts,_ is what Harvey once told him he should do when he needed answers.

And so he decides to press.

"Harvey, may I ask you a question?" 

"You can ask," Harvey tells him. "Doesn't guarantee you an answer."

Mike pushes the silver platter to one side so that he can lean his elbows more comfortably on the table. "You entered into this arrangement tonight looking to have sex with a guy who looked just like me," he says bluntly. "Am I right?" 

Harvey hesitates, clearly considering whether or not he should bother lying, but then he just sighs and nods his head instead.

"Okay," Mike continues, "so … if you wanted to have sex with me so badly, why pay some random lookalike from an agency two thousand dollars to sleep with you? Why not just ask me instead?"

Harvey shakes his head. "Don't be ridiculous, Mike," he snaps.

"What have I said that's so ridiculous?"

Harvey considers his answer. "Because you and I both know that we were never going to have sex."

"Do we?" Mike asks, frowning. "Because I never knew that. And why wouldn't we anyway? Because of that whole _relationships within the workplace are frowned upon at Pearson Hardman_ thing? Is that what you're getting at?"

"Yes," Harvey says quietly, after another pause. "Partly."

"And partly because … ?"

Harvey feels like he's on the stand. "Because I didn't think you'd be interested," he admits.

He watches, frowning as Mike whoops and immediately breaks into peels of wheezy laughter.

"What's so funny?" he asks. He frowns in confusion, whereas Mike just seems hysterical.

Mike sits up at last and wipes the tears from his eyes. "What's so funny?" he repeats. "What's so freaking funny? I'll tell you what's funny, Harvey. What's funny is that practically every day since I first met you, I've fantasised about what it would be like to have you fuck me, and then you say you think I wouldn't be interested? You've got to admit that's funny!"

The shock he sees on Harvey's face at this admission is priceless.

"But, God, how could you not know that?" he continues. "Haven't you ever noticed me watching you and checking out your ass? Why do you think I always walk two steps behind you?"

"I thought you were showing me respect," Harvey says. Feeling rather hot now, he carefully removes his jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair.

"Well, I was," Mike agrees, grinning at him, "but just in a different kind of way than you thought. Seriously, man, you've never noticed me watching you? Never seen me staring at your lips like this?" and he demonstrates, parting his own lips slowly as his eyes look down to rest longingly on Harvey's mouth before he casually flicks them up again to meet Harvey's gaze.

At this point, Harvey suddenly finds himself wanting to grab a hold of Mike and thrust his tongue right down the boy's throat.

"You know, I was kinda looking forward to getting laid tonight," Mike says, licking his lips. "In fact, I was really looking forward to it a lot."

Harvey swallows hard, his throat visibly bobbing. "What are you saying, Mike?" he asks, unconsciously echoing Mike's lip-licking, while his heart starts to thud erratically in his chest.

"I'm saying we should just fuck anyway," Mike answers firmly. "And if you're still worried about the possible repercussions of an office romance, then we don't need to get into all that relationship stuff if you really don't want to. We could be kind of like, y'know, fuck buddies or something. What do you say?"

"Fuck buddies?" Harvey says incredulously, despite the excited warmth that's currently spreading through his groin and making him want to touch his cock. "Do people seriously still say that in 2013?"

"Well, okay, so friends with benefits then," Mike suggests with a cheeky grin that threatens to stop Harvey's heart altogether. "Or colleagues with benefits or …" He drains his champagne glass, tipping back his head to give Harvey a tempting view of his perfect white throat. "Oh, I don't know," he continues, planting his glass back on the table and reaching for the bottle for a top up. "What about _guys who fuck?_ Sounds good to me. What do you think?"

"I think you need to stop knocking back that champagne," Harvey remarks, "or it'll make you say something you regret."

"Harvey!" Mike protests. "You think I don't know what I'm saying."

"I think you're well on the way to being drunk." 

"I'm actually not," Mike insists, "but if I was, I'd be drunk _and_ horny, a perfect combination, don't you think? Aw, c'mon, Harvey, let's just fuck already. You know you wanna." And before Harvey can respond, Mike is quickly loosening his tie and starting to unbutton his shirt. "I'm guessing you wanna top," he says, kicking his shoes off under the table, "which is fine by me. I don't mind topping occasionally but, man, I love to be fucked."

"Wait," Harvey says, holding up his hand. "Mike, wait!"

But Mike is standing up now and he's unfastening his belt, which he slides quickly out of his belt loops and he drops it to the floor beside him with a soft _thunk._ His pants quickly follow and he steps out of them, and then he's standing there in nothing but his black socks and a pair of dark blue cotton boxer shorts. 

"Harvey, c'mon," he says, quickly closing the space between them and pulling Harvey up out of his chair. "Don't look so shocked. It's okay. Isn't this what you wanted? In fact, it's better than what you wanted, right? Because it's actually _me_ you're gonna be with and not some freaky imposter." He catches Harvey's hand and pulls him in close, pressing his lips hard to Harvey's mouth and slipping his tongue inside, and Harvey can't help but kiss him back. Mike's nimble fingers fumble with Harvey's shirt as the kiss deepens and then somehow he feels the crisp cotton fabric whispering down over his shoulders, not even caring when it flutters to a crumpled heap on the floor at his feet. He's instantly hard as Mike's lithe and wiry body presses up against him, first grinding his hips against him, then pressing a hand hard to his erection where it strains against the confines of his pants.

"You wanna fuck me, don't you?" Mike moans as Harvey's teeth nip at his throat. "I want it too, Harvey, I really do." He crows with excited pleasure as Harvey growls his affirmation against his throat before bracing his arms around him and lifting him up. Mike wraps his lean legs around Harvey's waist as he finds himself being carried towards the bed and then he's toppling backwards onto it, eagerly spreading his thighs as Harvey clambers between them, covering his body, kissing him, thrusting his tongue deep into his mouth as his hands roam feverishly over Mike's body.

When Harvey releases him, Mike lies back, propping himself up on his elbows and watching appreciatively as Harvey unbuckles his own belt and shrugs himself out of his remaining clothes before stroking himself, teasing his cock to its full length, and as he watches him, Mike pushes his fingers down inside his shorts, grasping the head of his own very stiff erection and tugging on it hard. 

"Oh, man, I want that cock of yours," he says, grinning, all flush-faced and shining eyes, and Harvey suddenly thinks he's never seen such a beautiful sight. "I can't wait for you to fuck me with that big boy. You got lube? Looks like I'm gonna need it."

"You think I'd forget such details?" Harvey asks him, grinning now. "Check the basket."

Mike grins back, remembering his earlier guesses about the contents of the wicker basket, and he turns round and reaches behind him, his fingers quickly finding a bottle of lube, which he eagerly withdraws. 

"Grab the condoms too," Harvey says, although he's surprised when Mike turns back to him with a pained expression on his face. "What?" he questions. 

"Jimmy emailed you my test results, right?" Mike says. "I'm clean, Harvey, and so are you."

"You haven't been with anyone since you took the tests?" Harvey asks him doubtfully. He knows _he_ hasn't. 

Mike is indignant, however. "What? No, Harvey, of course not. It's one of the agency rules. Jimmy would kill me, and besides, I haven't been with anyone for ages, not since – " He stops, knowing how angry Harvey always seems to get whenever he mentions Trevor. "Well, certainly not in the last six months anyway."

Harvey seems satisfied. More than satisfied, Mike thinks, if the way he growls as he grabs his wrists and pins him back down on the bed is anything to go by. Harvey's hands roam over his body once more, stripping him of his socks and boxers, and Mike cries out as he fucks his cock up into Harvey's fisted palm, groaning with delight when his boss once more pushes his tongue deep into his mouth. 

It's like all his fantasies just came true at once.

"How much preparation do you usually need?" he hears Harvey growl in his ear. He knows Harvey is ready to claim him: the weight and heat of the other man's thick erection digging into his groin tells him so. It's all very quick, but he doesn't care. They can do other things later: right now all he wants is Harvey's thick cock in his ass.

"Just slick yourself up and I'm good to go," he answers, which he knows always used to be true but maybe isn't now, taking into account the length of time it's been since he'd last had sex, and he briefly wonders if he'll regret saying it. He's soon moaning softly, though, as despite his boastful claims, Harvey still decides to first slick his fingers with lube, then carefully he brushes Mike's entrance with a neatly manicured finger before slowly slipping it inside. When he's in up to the knuckle, he leans down, slipping his lips over the head of Mike's cock as he gently starts to suckle him, making Mike's back arch itself practically off the bed as he groans.

"Harvey," Mike pants. He sounds desperate, undone, and he moans loudly, feeling Harvey's slick fingers digging deep inside him as his cock slowly disappears into Harvey's hot throat. "Harvey, God."

Harvey's eyes swivel up to meet Mike's, and again he thinks it's such a beautiful sight that he gasps, for Mike's blue eyes are fixed on Harvey's own and they're glowing with lust, and his white throat ripples as he moans out his pleasure.

"Fuck me, Harvey, please," he begs. "Please, I need your cock in me. It's just – it's all I want right now."

As Harvey looks at him, he knows he can't resist, and he squirts another helping of lube into his palm, quickly applying it to his own solid cock, and then he grabs a pillow and pushes it under Mike's hips before kneeling down between his milky white wide-spread thighs. Without further ado, he lines himself up and then carefully starts to push inside him. 

"Oh, fuck," Mike moans as he squirms beneath him. "Oh, Harvey, God ..." 

Harvey feels Mike's thighs tighten around him, feels his hands clutching his back as he slowly rocks himself forward. He looks down at Mike, but Mike's eyes are now tightly closed, although his mouth is open, his breaths coming quickly now in ragged little pants.

"You okay?" Harvey grunts, and Mike opens his eyes and moans up at him in heated confirmation. 

"Oh, fuck, yes," he cries. "More, Harvey, gimme more, please. Fill me right up."

Sitting himself up, Harvey obliges, pushing deeper, edging his way in, until eventually he's fully buried in Mike's tight heat, and then he starts to move, gently at first with tiny thrusts in and out, his thumbs resting on Mike's trembling inner thighs as he starts to push harder, but then he begins to gather pace, thrusting in hard, and he leans forward again, pressing his knees down hard and curling his toes into the mattress to gain more leverage. His lips seals themselves against Mike's, kissing him, biting his mouth, eating him almost, and then he's dragging his hot tongue down over the younger man's prickly stubble before biting down hard on the soft skin of his throat. Mike clings to him through all this, mewling, jerking his hips up hard each time to meet Harvey's thrusts, and then as Harvey nestles his face down against the hot damp skin in the hollow of Mike's throat, Mike groans gutturally as Harvey begins to fuck him with deep, hard, powerful strokes that he knows will make them both come.

Feeling himself close, Harvey again looks at Mike who, for his part, seems to have completely lost control of himself already. His head is tipped back, his white throat exposed. His eyes are half open but they're glazed, mostly unseeing, and he moans and cries and trembles as he thrashes up hard, gripping Harvey's sides with his thighs. A deep flush is spreading across his chest and neck, he arches his back again and then he's groaning loudly and largely incoherently, although Harvey catches some of his mangled, breathless words as they're wrenched from his throat with _yes, fuck, God and Harvey_ being among them, and then Mike finally begins to shudder and cry, his muscles alternately tensing then violently contracting as his come spurts between them in jerky wet ropes, and then Harvey lets go too, losing himself totally in Mike's slender, trembling body, as he too comes hard, clinging on tightly, thrusting in deeply, before eventually, much later, he comes down from his high.

 

"Would it have been worth it?" Mike later asks. They're lying in bed, arms and legs entwined, and he presses himself closer to Harvey, his fingertips trailing back and forth over the smooth, warm skin of his chest. Later he plans to use his hands, and his tongue too, in many other ways, to make Harvey happy, make him scream with joy, but for now he's content to just to lie here, cocooned within the intimate warmth of Harvey's safe, masculine strength.

"Would what have been worth it?" Harvey murmurs sleepily, his fingers playing lightly with the sweat-damp hair at the nape of Mike's neck.

"The two thousand dollars you'd have paid to fuck a guy that wasn't even me?"

"Three thousand dollars," Harvey corrects him. "Don't forget I had to pay your friend his agency fee as well." 

"Okay, so three thousand dollars then, but would it have been worth it?" 

"No chance," Harvey replies firmly, "because it wouldn't have been you."

"Just as well we can get me for free in future, then," Mike says. "Harvey, you can call me any time you want." 

"I just might hold you to that," Harvey warns with a smile. 

"I'll expect you to," Mike murmurs softly. "We're _guys who fuck_ now, remember?"

And pulling him even closer, Harvey nods his head and grins.


End file.
